Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Ayn Feb 2020
A push back to reality,
A play full of comity,
And a couple of songs,
Brought end to the calamity.

Still in disarray,
My body will pay
For tricking me
In such an awful way.

Where I might go?
I do not know,
But I feel that I’ll start to
Follow my blood’s flow.
Two different existences
That were not the same person,
But I thought of them as one.
How foolish of me.
Willow Branche Jan 2020
Into madness, fall from sadness,
Struggle just to be.
Is this illusion just a delusion?
This pain envelopes me.
My mind is tangled, heart is strangled,
My demons follow close.
Help me escape, wrapped in red tape,
You’re the demon that haunts me the most.
Leave my skin red and raw,
The scars, they never fade.
Always bleeding, always seething,
Shadows follow night and day.
The figures watch my every move,
Whispers flood my ears.
“I can’t drown my demons, they know how to swim”,
And they know my darkest fears.
The pills are supposed to heal my soul,
So I choke all of them down.
But the bugs still crawl under my skin,
Yet when I look they can’t be found.
I pull at my hair, checking if there
Is some proof that I am sane,
But ****** fingers always tell me,
The problem is in my brain.
Grey Dec 2019
It’s your fault.
Three soft sounds, and yet I cower behind my delusions as they make themselves heard.
It’s your fault.
The words crash around my mind, shattering the translucent lies keeping me sane.
It’s your fault.
They tear through my life, upending my dreams and hollowing out my soul.
It’s your fault.
After enduring so much, all it took were three simple words to break me.
Even if someone drills those words into your mind again and again, don't give up. Stay strong. You didn't do anything wrong. Remember that.
Elena Nov 2019
A halo of envy
Steamed a green fog
Upon her dreamy sky
The faint shape of him
Unveiled her heart
And she shivered
With a chill of denial
But hope was a’gliding
And a’rising at Dawn
and He, so humble to beauty,
Was flowering notes
And willed solace afloat
This crystalline sky,
Fuming boldly.
Simon Nov 2019
A bullshitter to one’s own heart isn’t factual without statements gone astray. Its practical logic locking natures way of leading you astray, if you’re never opening one’s heart. That someone isn’t contrary to forbid their heart when even attempting to lock it up without *******! ******* is already contrary when it’s the very lock itself to someone’s own heart. Masking the potential when agreeing to focus on the (factual) leading astray away from the practical logic as the key to your own safe of *******! Bullshitting the safe confines logical dumbness. Trying an attempt at even wanting to touch that lock, will ZAP you into another bullshitter of someone else’s very own unique type. Spreading it like a virus. An outright PANDEMIC! Gesturing the practical logic to act as anti bodies when retracting away from the stench that is the opposite to what already makes sense beforehand. Then how did the bullshitter in someone’s own heart spread toward the next one appearing at the same conjunction in time? It’s never that easy to clear out the imperfections from actually ever dealing with the real self importance of it all. The locking bullshitter to someone’s own heart, is in the shape of a slithering snake. One appearing to you in the form that matches practical logic of what a surface area matches with one appearing to see what doesn’t hide itself. Compared to the counterpart diminishing all claims of what it counts as absurdity. The surface area in the form of a snake of practical logic. A snake whose logical way of doing something, is using it’s poisonous, corrupting fangs to influence another bullshitter who never counted on starting like that. ZAPPING them into a newly formed conjecture! Never truly knowing the actual repercussions to how one should act, once infected. Never knowing if there the same choice as the one choosing to obstruct in the form of blinded absurdities. That poison being the lock. While seeing the actual form of practical logic in the form of a key. Alright. Alright! So, by getting this straightened out. Revealing a potential, but an already obvious gap in the margin. The poisonous fangs are the virus. Making someone into a very unique bullshitter of there own design. Heart filling up without truly effecting it yourself. If any molecules are flooding the heart that much. Plugging the brim dry! Then if one doesn’t see the truly defined picture. Every molecule literally flips inside out to control what is never truly obvious to the infective. Dropping continues doubts about something truly being wrong with the bullshitter to someone’s own heart. The infective thinking this is the practical logic one should poke fun into everyone’s else’s business. Now switching over a one-sided debate to which one truly is making some sense as a mere starter kit. The snake itself being the vessel which holds the poison inside itself. Completely unaffected by there own virus. Fate unsealed, which is an illusion to how it controls it’s actions. Nature redefining all practical logic without trying to ask…WHY?! But (WHY) never being the first reaction to knowing (what it’s for)? Simply put it… It’s to hold the poison away from one’s own heart. The body is the key. While the fangs eject the poison as an example to retreating oneself in the process. Snakes free will being judged by a never-ending continues drawback of never being the one who is truly free. Being the one never truly free is always envious of ones being infected. So, it can purposely dive deeper into how one can change the sorting out with the good. While patronizing the evil into its own debated circle. Waiting a judgemental trial of getting out of the *******. Being a bullshitter to someone’s own heart isn’t cheap. Never the less… Neither is one fated to be cramped inside a prison as both lock and key. Supported by the corrupting poison being the snake’s heart itself. A slithering snake offering both nurture and hindrance. Hindrance being the processing ploy of absurdity taking flight under its own pressurising guilt. Slithering molecules to a poisonous heart are overflowing with a bullshitter to another’s very own unique type. Boiling STRONG! Getting ready to ZAP another unsuspecting copy of the original design.
A bullshitter is someone without redefining details in their own virtues plunging margins dry. Heart accepting whatever one deems worthy in the face of pure delusional absurdities.
Starry Aug 2019
No one is the same
No one is normal
Or perfect
So girl
Start looking in the mirror
See yourself
Instead of an dellusion
For the delusion is death
Julia Jun 2019
sometimes i'm trapped in my own mind
do i need help or am i alright
with falling apart and breaking my bones
is there a person in this world who actually knows?
Amanda Francis Jun 2019
First you fall in love...

Then you land on the jagged shards of your delusions.
Donovan Rooney Jun 2019
Through you, unity.      
Understand us.              
Up, up, up
Drug rush
Abuse turns absurd
***** Junction
Unreal unravels delusions
Euphoria undeniable
Exquisitely unveiling
Unbeknownst subtleties
Until unlimited universe unfolds
Übermensch
Inspired by Hope Dufault-Hunter

Composed with only the letter u in the spirit of the OULIPO

“Reason is a slave to the passions”
VKBoy May 2019
There isn’t a day I didn’t hope
To come out of the delusions
The world has thrown at me.
Every day has been a struggle
For something more than just survival
More than just success
And it was to be loved.
I’ve given my all in every situation
To come out victorious as well as good
Yet here I am
Still feeling as miserable as ever
Breathing less and less freely
Surrounded by success
That had the stench of darkness
Which strengthened with every surmounted endeavor of my life
For no matter how hard I’ve been trying
To be a good guy
I still feel like
I’m living in a delusional world
Where I’ll forever be the one
Everybody
Loves to hate
Hugs to steal
Talks to trick
Touches to taint
And possibly do much more
Than my eyes can make out.
I have no clue as to why
I can’t overcome this growing feeling
That is evolving into a severe reality
With each passing day.
But after so many years of pain
I think I finally know the answer.
Not all success stories can be treasured
Only the ones that hearts feel affection for.
Though I’ve changed a lot
Maybe I’m still wanting to be
Loved or hugged too hard
Talked or touched too much
And maybe it’s time
For me to stop trying to be good
And start trying to be who I am.
“What lies beyond victory is the victor’s heart.” ―  VKBoy
To look beyond success and taste the sweet life of it, we must start looking into our hearts first.
Next page